Transference Revisited
by Merisha
Summary: This is a companion piece.  Same story, same characters, same angsty humor, just from Sammy's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Transference Revisited**

**Hi guys ;0) - Thank you so much for the possitive response to Transference. I quickly typed up the first chapter of Transference Revisited on the weekend. Hope you enjoy it and I hope I do Sammy justice ;0)**

**Disclaimer: I want to own them ... but I dont ;0)**

**Warning: Mild language et al _(revisited - grin)_**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

"I said drop it!!" 

Oh Lord, I hope the sheriff doesn't shoot me … well for two obvious reasons. Firstly, if the bullet doesn't kill me, it's definitely gonna hurt (and I really hate pain) … and secondly, Dean will blast him so full of holes they'll have to play 'match-the-dots' to make a positive ID, and he's already in enough shit with the law as it is. My aim remains steady, this Lich isn't getting out of here alive. I look into her murky eyes and feel the dread wrap itself around my heart. I think I'm probably more than likely gonna hurl.

"Like I said before sheriff, this isn't what it looks like!" Oh crap, Dean is seriously pissed, I can hear it in his voice. Shit! He'd better not do anything stupid.

"Listen boys, I don't know what your 'beef' is with this young gal, but this ain't the answer! Now lower your guns slowly and let's discuss it all civilized like."

This is definitely ending in a blood bath if I can't convince the sheriff that the girl standing in front of us is not what she seems. But how do you explain the bizarre world of the Supernatural in layman's terms to those who've never dealt with it before. He wont believe me, but I have to try anyway cause if I don't diffuse this situation quickly, Dean's gonna go all 'gun-ho' on my ass. "Sheriff, I know this looks bad, but please, you've got to trust me when I tell you that the thing standing before us is a murdering monster!"

It took us four days to track this bitch. It would have been three if Dean weren't so friggin stubborn. This place is so way out in the sticks that the map on 'Google Earth' turned out to be as useful as the 'glow-in-the-dark' condom Dean put in my jacket pocket (for just in case) … god I really need to get laid. I suggested we ask for directions, which instantly accompanied a snort of disgust. So instead we had to drive past 'Daryl's Lawnmower Emporium' three times before we were back on track. We eventually drove into 'The Village of the Damned' with their replacement 'village idiot' behind the wheel of his classic 1967 Chrome Black Chevy Impala … snort!

Dean pulled out a pair of fake ID's when we got to the sheriff's office. There are millions of names out there, but he could only come up with FBI agents Smith and Jones, which he thought was hilarious. It always surprises me that we aren't sitting in jail somewhere with Baba and his cronies. I told him that the sheriff was looking at us suspiciously but he just brushed me off with 'you worry too much Sammy my boy!' I hate it when he does that, and it's **Sam**. But I was right, the sheriff was suspicious, cause here he is, firm in the belief that we are about to murder a harmless young girl.

I'm almost expecting Dean to rattle off one of his 'code words' so I'll have an idea what's going on in that head of his. I remember spending a night learning them by heart just because I accidentally got kidnapped by two idiots who thought I was someone famous and wanted money for my safe return. They let me phone Dean who apparently was right in the middle of the 'no pants dance' with some chick and before I could explain the situation he told me he was really, really busy right NOW and he'd phone me back. When he eventually realized something was wrong two hours later, he tracked me down to the flea bag motel, just as I was trussing up the last of the unconscious kidnappers. I tried to explain that I can take care of myself but he wouldn't hear it. He was fuming, I'd never seen him that mad … shouting at himself for being a careless, selfish, stupid, jackass. When he finally calmed down he decided there and then that we needed 'code words' just in case one of us was in trouble. His devotion to me scares me sometimes, so I didn't argue when he handed me the list. But I did chuckle when I read some of them … 'Freebird' if we're kidnapped, 'Funky Town' if someone has a gun on us, 'Rock n Roll' to duck out of the way, 'Hells Bells' for a no-holds-barred shootout and 'Owie' _(I lifted my eyebrows)_ if we are seriously wounded and near death … god I hope I don't have to use Owie.

"You boys are already knee deep in the compost, so lets not make matters worse, you need to put your gun's down so that …"

I've been waiting for a sign, and there it is, the Lich's eyes move slightly to the left and my finger pulls the trigger just as it flashes out of my line of fire …

"POWW!!"

I only manage to wing it. I'm surprised the sheriff hasn't made a move so I spin around, he has that 'deer in the headlights' look on his face. Crap! I jump slightly when Dean fires …

"POWW!!"

… he misses …

"Shit!"

This thing is faster than anything I've ever seen. I try to aim but it's almost impossible to keep track of it with the naked eye. It flickers past Dean and I see it reach out and touch him as it darts by. Oh shit, please tell me it didn't just touch him. The Lich is finally in my sights again but I can't shoot. The sheriff seems to come to his senses as he turns around and aims. I have to stop him. I don't hesitate as I point directly at his back and fire, my gun jams. Oh shit! I'm running forward instinctively … Dean's gonna be seriously pissed but I've already made up my mind … if the sheriff fires I'm gonna throw myself in front of the bullet. I'll do anything to protect my big bro. I see it happening in slow motion, oh god, I'm not gonna make it. The Lich is hovering in the door way, it knows it can escape, but it smiles tauntingly. I watch in horror as the sheriff's finger pulls the trigger …

"NOOOOOOO!"

"POWW!!"

The Lich is hit straight in the chest.

I skid to a stop. My whole body jerks at the sound of the impact reverberating around the room. My eyes dart to Dean, he's looking at the Lich, he doesn't see the blood blossoming on his shirt. Oh god … please … No! I'm rushing forward again and slide to a stop in front of him, bending down to look into his pale face. I'm too scared to touch him, he's hurt, oh god he's hurt real bad. He's eyes are unfocused … he must be in shock …

"No … No … No …!" This can't be happening.

"Coughhhh!"

Shit … there's blood coming out of his mouth. Shit! Shit! Shit!

"You're okay, I've got you, I've got you!"

Oh god Dean … I grab him, trying to hold him up … he doesn't realize until he looks down at his hands. His hands are over the wound, blood seeping between his fingers. He looks me in the eye as he mutters …

"Oh shit! Oh Shit!"

… it's like a slap in the face. I wasn't on time … I didn't save him … he's probably dying … oh please dear god, don't let him be dying.

My heart constricts and unshed tears fill my eyes. No … No … I'm not gonna let him die … I'm gonna save him … save him from this … save him from the deal with the demon ... save him in spite of himself. For the first time, I understand why Dean did what he did. If he felt anywhere near the pain I'm feeling right now, I can understand his decision. Just the thought of really loosing him for good is making me shake. I need to pull it together for Dean's sake.

"Coughhhh! Ouch!"

He's in pain, I swallow hard. His legs begin to buckle but I hold him securely against me as we both sink to the floor. I turn him into my hold so that his back rests up against my chest. I need to keep his torso elevated and his airway open. His head falls back onto my shoulder and I look into his too pale face. I really need to get him to a hospital, but how am I supposed to explain this. My indestructible big brother is lying in my arms shaking, dying … it just doesn't feel real. There's blood everywhere. I try to block the fact that it's Dean's life blood rushing through my fingers as I push down hard on the wound. He cries out.

"AAAAAH shit Sammy!!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I've got to stop the bleeding Dean!"

The sheriff kneels next to us, he seems to have found his voice, "What the hell just happened?"

"You Bastard!"

If I weren't holding Dean right now I'd probably be tearing this guy a new one. The rage boiling inside is new to me. Lately when I get angry I just want to lash out at the world, to hell with the consequences. And this stupid idiot over here wouldn't listen, he wouldn't listen and this is the result. Shit … why did it have to be Dean?

"Look what you've done … look what you've done!!"

"Sammy? It's okay, he didn't know …" He's holding onto my arm with what little strength he has left. It doesn't surprise me that he's so forgiving, he doesn't see it in himself, but he's the noblest person I've ever met. I look down at him and the rage is immediately replaced with love.

My heart nearly stops at the next words that come out of his mouth.

"Owie! Owie! Owie!"

I don't know if he realizes what he's saying but I go straight into panic mode. It doesn't help matters when his breath hitches and his eyes suddenly close.

"Oh god … is he … is he dead?" I give the sheriff a murderous look.

"NO! NO!" I quickly feel for a pulse in his neck. Please let there be a pulse. My hand is shaking as I eventually find it, it's weak, but he's alive and only when I see his chest rising and falling shallowly do I also start breathing again.

"Listen kid, I'm really, really sorry … I just didn't know. I've never seen anything like this before, it still feels like I'm having a bad dream."

Dean's words echo in my head … _he didn't know_ … and suddenly the urge to fight leaves me. I need this guys help because Dean needs me and I can't do this on my own. I force a smile to my face.

"I know … its okay … it still freaks me out and we deal with this kinda shit on a daily basis. But right now my brother needs medical attention. We need to patch him up as best we can before we move him. There's a small first aid kit behind the drivers seat in our car."

He smiles back, "If you want a first aid kit, best use mine. It's in the squad car, I'll quickly go and fetch it and call for backup."

Oh Shit. "No, please, please don't sheriff. We aren't very popular with the law at the moment."

He looks at me accessingly before he finally nods his head.

"Okay, no backup. But I was a medic with the Marine Cor and I'm gonna help you get your brother to the nearest medical facility as quickly as possible."

He looks back over his shoulder, "and you can stop calling me sheriff, the name's Hal."

"Thanks … Hal. I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean…" _my family, all I have left in this world _"...we really appreciate your help."

Hal rushes off to get the supplies while I keep an eye on Dean's erratic breathing. I send up a quick prayer … it can't hurt.

_**TBC … **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone - I'm so glad that you're glad that I'm back ... me too ;0)**

**Thanks again for all the wonderful and helpful feedback and reviews ... I really appreciate the time that you take to send me words of encouragement ;0) - _(and for those of you who are interested ... I'm sketching the picture I talk about in this fic - which I'll eventually post on my webshots page.)_**

**Warning: Mild language e****tcetera**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

I'm looking at Dean's dark, long eyelashes in contrast to his pale skin. Dad used to say that Dean had mom's eyes and I had mom's stubborn streak. I wish I had known her, I don't even have a photograph, everything was destroyed in the fire. But I have a sketch in my own journal which I treasure. It was a birthday gift from Dean. We've never really had money for party's and gifts so Dean spent a whole evening painstakingly drawing me a picture of mom from his memory of her. It's ethereal and beautiful and it has his eyes ... it was the best present ever … and now, every time I look into Dean's eyes I feel that I have a piece of mom with me.

I suddenly need to see those eyes again. I start tapping Dean on the face. He doesn't move.

"Please open your eyes Dean, I need to know your okay."

I tap his face again, panic starting to rear its ugly head. He eventually groans and looks up at me blinking and dazed.

"Dean! Dean! … you with me?"

Relief infuses me as he slowly nods his head.

"Shit, you scared me half to death … you went all pale … and I thought you weren't breathing ..."

"Mm … okay …" I want to laugh, he's so NOT okay ... but then he doubles over huffing in pain.

"Breathe Dean! Just breath, in … out … in … out … that's it!"

The pain seems to subside as he looks up at me and follows my inhales and exhales with his own. A sly grin creeps onto his face as he huffs, "I want my epidural!"

He tries to smirk at his own joke but coughs instead. I smile at his humor, he always tries to laugh in the face of death, but I can see right through his tough guy act.

"You are such an ass, Dean! And here I thought you were dying in my arms ..."

My voice catches on the image that invokes as I wipe the blood staining his mouth.

Hal is back with an army issue IFAC trauma kit. Nice. I think we'll have to invest in one of those. Sorry becomes my mantra as I start tearing Dean's favorite Van Halen t-shirt, already making a mental note to get him a new one, exactly the same, I'll hunt it down on e-bay if I have to.

Dean grunts in pain as he shifts in my arms.

"Hal, you got anything in that bag of yours to stop the bleeding?"

Hal rummages around and pulls out a pack of 'QuickClot', shit, looks like he's prepared for anything. He pours the contents directly onto the bubbling wound and securely bandages Deans torso while I hold him still. I'm seriously impressed.

Hal stops for a second in surprise as Dean mumbles, "Our dad was a Marine."

Dean's an excellent judge of character and it doesn't shock me that he intuitively knew Hal was a Marine. We spent our childhood around military men and hunters. Dean can instantly pick them out in a crowded room, even in their sivies. But it's the buried sadness in his voice that makes me bend down and lightly kiss the top of his head. He squeezes my arm and I have to swallow the lump in my throat … god I'm turning into a girl.

Hal suggests we get to a hospital, but Dean's already objecting.

"Son, you've been shot, you need professional care!"

I try explaining to him the reasons we can't take Dean to hospital, and they don't even sound convincing to my own ears. I want so badly to get him to a genuine medical facility but I know that we can't risk it. That Lich might follow us and I'll be damned if I let it do anymore damage than it already has. Besides, we're wanted men, if we come in with a bullet wound victim they are gonna immediately call in the police, who will probably call in the Feds and I really can't spend my days in prison fretting while my brother fights for his life in a hospital bed, alone. It's just not gonna happen!

"We just can't risk it. Besides we're not too far from our friends place. He can fix this. Bobby can fix Dean." I know I'm putting a lot of faith in Bobby, but he's dealt with hundreds of bullet and knife wounds and some shit that you'll never see in a medical journal.

I explain to Hal as calmly as I can about the hazards of our line of work. About the ghosts and demons, about the things that go bump in the night. I tell him about the groups of hunters who have been fighting a thankless battle against evil for centuries.

"I know it seems impossible, but there are supernatural things in this world that are dangerous and deadly, just like that Lich you saw tonight. There's a war raging out there that only a few people know about. Ordinary people, people who have dedicated and lost their lives, and they're the only ones standing between evil and protecting the innocent!"

That seems to trigger something because he immediately volunteers to take us through to Bobby and scrap his investigation. Crap I feel bad, I nearly killed this guy to save Dean, I'd do it again, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. He could get into heaps of trouble so I explain how Dean and I landed in the shit with the FBI.

"We have to stay one step ahead of the law, no disrespect intended, cause we'll be pretty useless in this fight if we're locked up in some maximum security joint."

"I understand Sam, but I still want to help. I didn't mean too, but I shot your brother, and I feel responsible. And I'm gonna do everything I can to help you boys out, cause I cant live with the guilt if I don't!"

"Okay," no point in arguing, we have to get Dean to Bobby, so I scoot out from under him and pile my jacket under his head. I watch in disbelief as his eyes instantly drift shut and he fights for every breath, a horrible wheezing sound emanating from his chest.

"Oh god, sounds like a pneumothorax." Hal gets this look on his face like I just turned into Doogie Howser, but doesn't say anything as he hands me a sterile needle and tubing. He watches me as I feel my way along Deans heaving ribcage. He's really battling to inhale, shit … and his lips are turning blue … need to remove the pressure building up inside his chest. I find the spot and firmly push the thick needle into the soft skin between his ribs. The air rushes out of the tubing and I immediately begin taping it into place onto his chest. His breaths start evening out and his eyes flutter open. He looks disorientated and jumps slightly as I look down into his face.

"Hold on Dean, we're nearly done, just gonna give you something for the pain."

Hal plunges the morphine auto injector into Dean's forearm. I can see the instant relief and I can't suppress a grin at the dorky expression on Dean's face. I monitor his breathing for a few minutes to make certain there are no adverse effects. Hal wraps up all the waste and re-packs his med kit. I'm glad he has the foresight not to leave any evidence lying around. While Hal does a last check on Dean, I quickly run over to lock-up the Impala. I know Dean will kill me if I don't take care of his baby. I rush back. His eyes are rolling in bliss, I know the feeling, I've had a few morphine injections myself.

"Sammy … you've got to try some of this stuff! It just … dills my pickle!"

His voice is seriously slurred and I chuckle as I gently scoop him up to carry him outside. He's heavy and it's no easy task carrying his dead weight as he hangs limply in my arms. I up the pace, we need to get him to Bobby quickly. Luckily it's a full moon and the area is flooded with misty light. I carry him to the squad car, careful not to trip over the stones littering the driveway. Dean looks completely out of it as he turns his head to look up at me.

"I love you man …"

I grin, he's definitely out of it, "I love you too Dean!"

I'm no lightweight but my brother is also pure muscle. Hours of training and years of fighting turned him into a seriously powerful force of nature. He can take down a Wendigo faster than anyone I've known … even dad, and he was the best. I think that's why the Impala suits him so well, they're cut from the same cloth. So I can't help but snorkel when he says …

"Sammy, I think … we should take up ballet!"

Just the picture of Dean in a tutu has me snorkeling again.

"No, seriously man … with your grace … and my good looks … we'll have chicks flocking around us … like lambs to the slaughter house!"

I laugh at his drug induced silliness as I carefully place him into the backseat and scoot in behind him.

"Sammy … the Impala!"

Typical Dean. I reassure him that his baby is all locked up and safe. But only after threats of blood stains on his leather upholstery does he actually consent to leaving her behind. Not that he has much choice in the matter but it makes him feel better when he thinks he's in charge.

"We'll be back soon baby, don't miss me too much."

I chuckle. He really loves his car … it's his only link to the past. It was dad's car before Deans, and it was uncle Jacobs car before dad. Dad never spoke much about uncle Jacob, other than he was mom's brother and that he died, so we never asked.

I make sure Dean is as comfortable as he can be huddled against my chest, his head still lolling on my shoulder. I lean up against the door, trying to fit my long legs in the limited space as I explain to Hal how to get to Bobby's. He steps on the gas as we fly across state to get to the salvage yard. I lift my ass carefully so that I can pull out my cell phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

Dean coughs again as I speed-dial Bobby. He answers after the third ring.

"Bobby, its Sam."

"Hey Samuel, how ya boys doin?"

"We've got a problem. Dean's been shot."

"Ah holy crap! how bad?"

"In the chest."

"Shit Sam!"

"Yeah, I know. He's okay for now."

"Are you taking him to the hospital?"

"No."

"How's he holding up?"

"He's not doing to well, but he's holding his own."

"What the hell happened, who did this to him?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain when we get there."

"You're on your way over here?"

"We're headed over with the sheriff."

"What? Why? Do you need backup, should I call Ellen?"

"No it's okay, he knows. Just be ready. We'll be there as quick as we can. And Bobby … thanks."

"It's okay kiddo, I'll set up the back room so long, I'll be waiting!"

I hang up. I have every confidence in Bobby, he's a skilled field surgeon, even though he's an illegal one.

Dean is suddenly breathing harshly through his nose and before I can move to help him, he throws up across the backseat, I try to ignore the amount of blood that he also expels. Shit, I should've been ready, I should've known he would feel sick. Hal passes me a box of wipes as I try to clean Dean up as best I can. He really looks like crap and my hands begin to shake.

Hal looks back sympathetically, "It's okay son, you're gonna be okay! Just hang in there!"

I'm really starting to like this guy.

Dean is panting, trying to get his breath as I gently wipe his mouth. He manages to spit more blood into one of the wipes as I repeatedly tell him that he's doing fine and that he's gonna be okay. He tiredly lets his head roll back onto my shoulder as he watches me through heavy eyes. Oh god, he's so pale and he's shaking uncontrollably. His breath suddenly hitches and then stops as his eyes roll back.

"DEAN!"

My hand flies to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. He's not breathing … No!

"SHIT … DEAN! … Hal! He's not breathing, he's not breathing … pull over!"

Hal swerves to the side of the road, stops and bolts around to open my door.

We carefully pull Dean out onto the road, lying him flat as Hal pushes a jacket under his head. I open his shirt and without even thinking about it immediately tilt his neck back, pinch his nose and give him two quick breaths. Hal begins with chest compressions, blood seeping out from under the bandage. Oh god, he's dying. I continue with the quick breaths as Hal pushes down firmly and swiftly on Dean's chest.

"Come on, come on…"

The moonlight catches his slack features for an instant and his face glows ghostly white. My heart jumps in my throat.

"No … No!"

I cover his mouth with mine again and continue with the CPR.

…………………………

"Breathe dammit, please Dean, breathe!"

I get caught up in the flow of breaths that I force into his lungs but I can still feel him slipping away.

"Dean! Please don't give up on me, fight damn you!"

My tears are spilling onto his serene face, but I don't care. He's can't die, I won't let him. I force another breath into his lungs. Then suddenly I feel him inhale.

"Dean? Dean? You with me?" He takes another tentative breath, his face scrunching up as he shakes in pain. I can't help myself, he's breathing, he's back, I half laugh, half cry when he slowly opens his eyes. But I stop suddenly at the look he gives me.

"Sammy … were you … just kissing me?"

Hey?

"What! No Dean, I was trying to save your life ..."

I'm worried, maybe he didn't get enough oxygen to his brain …

"Yeah … right … when last … did CPR … involve using …your tongue?"

Shit … did I use my tongue?

"I did not … I never would … I didn't give you tongue!"

"Nice Sammy … taking advantage … of a wounded man …"

His stern look transforms into a rakish grin. I grin back. The bastard!

"Dean, you are such an ass, and you're so not my type."

"I'm everyone's … type … Sammy!"

"Yeah, well if I ever kissed you, which won't happen, you'd **never** forget it!" I'm a fantastic kisser, but kissing your bro is just WRONG, even if he does have full soft lips (oh god, that sounded kinda dirty even in my own head).

"Well … you **did** kiss me … and I think … Bobby's dog … is better at it … than you …"

I can't help but chuckle. Trust Dean to be 'The Last Comic Standing' while I'm flapping around trying to save his life.

We do a quick check, making sure everything is still in place before Hal helps me get Dean back into the car. I keep a finger on his pulse (it's the only thing reassuring me at the moment) as I watch every breath he inhales. That was way too damn close and I'm willing every bit of strength I have into his weakening body. Before I realize it, Hal screeches to a stop at the salvage yard, shit, and I thought Dean was a Daytona driver!

I climb out carefully and lift my brother securely into my arms. He doesn't protest which only adds to my unease. From experience when he's submissive like this it means that he's seriously weak, too ill to put up a fight, and that scares me to death.

"We're here Dean! Just hang on. You're gonna be fine, Bobby'll fix this. He has to fix this."

Lord, tears are welling in my eyes again as I carry my precious burden over to Bobby. He gives Dean one evaluating look and says:

"Holy Crap!"

Yeah ditto!

_**TBC … **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi Guys - thanks again for the absolutely fantabulous reviews and constructive criticisms - I really appreciate them and I do take them to heart ;0)**

**_P.S: My hotmail address is on the fritz so if you've sent me a message and I haven't responded, please forgive me. Also that pic I was talking about is posted on my webpage link, I tried to make it look like pages from Sammy's journal - let me know what you think ;0)_**

**Chapter 3 - enjoy ;0)**

**Warning: Mild language revisited**

* * *

Dean is gasping for breath as I hurry after Bobby who takes us through to his small surgery. Ellen had one just like it in the basement of the Roadhouse before it was destroyed. We need to remove Dean's shirt and the soiled bandages so I carefully balance him on the edge of the surgical table. He cries out in agony at the shift in position.

"AAAAAH … hurts!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry … just hang in there Dean! It won't be much longer." Shit … this really sucks, he's in so much pain and there's nothing I can do … I don't even know how he's staying conscious.

Bobby looks over at us worriedly, "Jesus Sam, you'd better give me the short version."

I account the details from the shooting up until resuscitating Dean on the road, the dread is still hovering near the surface, threatening to consume me. Bobby listens, his brow furrowing as I share the longest hour of my life with him. I know he's just as worried as I am, he's like family, even baby-sat Dean and I a few times while dad was out hunting. He loves reminding me, usually in company, who changed my nappies back in the day. He still considers us the sons he never had, so he quietly conveys his concerns with a look, doesn't want to signal to Dean just how troubled he really is.

My attention is back on my brother as he leans heavily into my shoulder, shivering. I support his weight as Bobby begins cutting away the shirts and unwrapping the bandages. His pain becomes my pain as he coughs and then heaves violent and all I can do to ease the discomfort is gently rub his back.

"… owie … owie … owie …"

My heart is thumping anxiously in my chest. Please Dean, don't use owie, you're killing me over here.

"It's okay, I've got you, you're okay."

He's so NOT okay …

"Bobby, we need to hurry, I don't know how much more of this Dean can take!"

Dean is gripping my arm like I'm his only salvation.

"Okay Sam, just lie him down, I've got to see the extent of the injury. He's lost a lot of blood and we need to remove the bullet … you two up for this?"

I nod my head affirmatively as I carefully lift Dean's legs and support his neck to get him lying flat on the table … he grunts as I move him into position. The sight that greets me knocks my breath away. The raw wound is oozing blood and the QuickClot makes it look worse as it clumps along the edges of his torn skin … how is he even still alive? 'Please don't die' echo's repeatedly in the back of my mind … oh god I think I'm really gonna be sick. Bobby and Hal take one look at me and move over to see the damage.

'Shit!" They look worried, which makes me even more worried … I think my blood pressure just went up another notch. Bobby does a quick check as he cautiously prods Dean's bruised and bloodied chest while he just watches tiredly, breath catching every now and then when Bobby hits a tender spot.

The conviction in Bobby's voice is his way of making sure that Dean believes he can survive this, "You just hang in there kiddo, I've seen worse … You're gonna be okay … ya hear!"

He nods his head … even though his eyes tell me a different story. I fight back my fears as the next steps of action are discussed while we prepare Dean for surgery. Bobby irrigates the wound which starts bleeding again, the metallic smell overpowering my senses. I close my eyes.

"You okay Sam?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just needed a minute." It's a lie and Hal knows it.

I start removing the rest of Dean's clothing, and he still manages to make me smile just by being Dean.

"… didn't … even … buy me … diner …"

I love the asshole for it … "Jerk!"

"… bitch! …"

We've spent enough time around each other … and to be honest, I've seen more parts of Dean than I've ever cared to … but it still feels awkward as I throw a towel over his hips and remove his jocks. Luckily Dean is distracted by Bobby checking the surgical equipment.

"Oh please god … don't let that be … an anal probe!"

I can't help but chuckle at my nervous older sibling, he's very protective over his ass, probably cause he talks out of it so often. Hal inserts an IV into his arm and I immediately feel better when he seems to settle as the painkillers take effect. I watch Dean's eyes as they battle to stay open, he's stubbornly fighting the medication. His skin is still glistening with fever ... maybe I should just check his temperature quickly, but before I can reach for the thermometer I hear Dean groan, "Sammy …"

He almost arches off the table, his head thudding back as his body begins convulsing. My heart is racing as I try to hold him down.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Bobby quickly gets a temperature reading and then rushes off with Hal to fetch ice packs while I desperately hold onto Dean for all I'm worth. The heat from his skin is radiating through my shirt. He starts choking and I swiftly roll him onto his side bracing his shuddering body against my own. He's breathing too fast and a check of his pulse confirms that it's extremely rapid.

"Shit Bobby, hurry up!"

Bobby and Hal rush back. Hal starts dousing him with a cool cloth, Dean's breath hitching at the sudden change in temperature on his skin. I roll him carefully onto his back, trying to keep him still, as they cover him in wet towels and start packing the ice packs along his body. Bobby places an icepack rolled up in a wet towel under Dean's neck and for an instant he stops breathing. I'm terrified that the cold compresses are gonna send him into shock or cardiac arrest but he starts breathing again on his own and I sigh with relief. I grab more ice packs and place them strategically around Dean's hips and between his legs. He is gonna be seriously pissed, but we need to get his temperature down as quickly as possible.

After a few minutes of frantic activity Dean's body stops seizing and he seems to slip into unconsciousness. We breathe a collective sigh of relief. My legs suddenly feel shaky so I sit down before I fall over, picking up a cool cloth absentmindedly and tenderly wiping it across Dean's warm forehead while Bobby monitors his temperature as it comes down from 106°.

Bobby pats me on the back reassuringly as I take a few deep breaths to try and slow my frenzied heartbeat, god … I'm gonna have a minor heart attack of my own if this carries on.

Dean is frowning, probably gonna have a serious headache when he wakes up. I'm an expert on headaches so I reflexively begin massaging Dean's neck. I remember when Jess used to massage my neck and temples, usually when I had one of my splitting headaches back at college, and I find it almost therapeutic doing the same for Dean. His muscles are tense and I find myself relaxing as I firmly rub the knots out of his shoulders. He'd never let me do this if he were awake. I let my fingers follow the area's that almost constantly throb in my own head and I smile when I hear Dean sigh contentedly.

"Bobby, I think he's coming around!"

"Dean! Dean! You with me son?"

He shivers fiercely and I almost think his having another seizure, but then his eyes fly open and he gives me a look of total disgust … what the hell?

"Ho … Ho … Holy Toledo!"

I almost burst out laughing as I realize why he has that strained look of discomfort on his face. I'm definitely a dead man. I try explaining the reasons for his rude awakening, but he's having a major sense of humor failure. His attempts at threats only make me want to laugh more, I think I may be a bit delirious with relief. Bobby thankfully explains how we tried to bring his fever down because I can't trust myself to open my mouth, I may begin sniggering hysterically. I try to distract myself by adjusting the oxygen mask while Bobby and Hal remove the icepacks.

"How … long?"

Dean's weak voice brings home the seriousness of the situation again.

"We can't risk putting you under … so if you don't loose consciousness Dean … you're pretty much gonna be aware of what's going on around you."

I'm hoping that will be incentive enough for him to stop fighting the medication. Bobby has him so drugged up it would knock an elephant out, but Dean is still stubbornly awake. I place the oxygen mask over his face, Bobby places the EKG leads onto Dean's torso and then efficiently inserts a suprapubic catheter. Dean winces slightly but he knows it's a necessary evil.

"We're ready Sam." This is it … I'm scared shitless so I'd hate to know how Dean feels right now. Bobby and Hal scrub up while I quickly tuck a thermal blanket around his legs … don't know how long the surgery is gonna last and I don't want Dean's temperature to drop too dramatically.

His fists are clenched tightly into the sheets and my brotherly protectiveness takes over.

"Just look at me Dean … keep looking at me … I'm not going anywhere …"

I squeeze his arm reassuringly while I gently massage his neck in the hopes of relaxing his tense body. He keeps looking at me and finally seems to drift to sleep … but my calm is short lived as he quickly blinks and continues staring at me through glassy eyes … Lord he's mulish. It's almost as if he's too scared to give up control. How can any one person be so strong and so vulnerable at the same time? He'd probably laugh at me and call me 'Samantha' if he could hear my thoughts ... I'd never live down the Freudian jokes he'd throw my way.

My brother, who can kick-ass with the best of them, name any weapon or rock band known to man, rebuild a car from scratch and flirt the panties off the ladies is petrified of affection of any kind. He has serious intimacy issues because of his fear of being alone and losing those he loves. I know, cause we're both exactly the same in that respect, but I at least try to communicate, which Dean brushes off as 'chick flick' or 'girly' moments.

He hides his fears behind a contagious sense of humor. Under his tough, brash exterior is a chaste soul who'll risk anything for his notion of a 'good cause' … shit he really pisses me off sometimes. He's been saving people all of his life, starting that fateful day when dad put me into his small protective arms. Now he's come to the point where he believes that his own life is less important than those he saves. Sometimes I feel like yelling and shaking him, anything to knock some sense into that thick skull of his … I love him dammit and he can't seem to understand that I can't lose him either … but the only way to get through to Dean is slowly and patiently. So if that's what it takes then that's what I'll do.

I've never really spoken about Stanford with Dean, the memories still hurt. The loneliness of being cut off from my family after that stupid fight, the look in Dean's eyes when I left, trying to make it on my own, not knowing where Dean or dad were or if they'd been hurt and then eventually loosing the love of my life to the yellow eyed demon. But hopefully if I talk to him about the things I've always kept secret, he'll realize how much I really love him … trusting him with some of my most precious memories.

I start off slowly, my voice so low only Dean can hear me, and after a while it flows out naturally as I share the good times I had with Jess and our friends, while Bobby and Hal try to patch him up.

Dean grins tiredly … but his sudden hiss has me jumping and looking around worriedly, maybe the anesthetic's worn off. Bobby's just finished removing the bullet but my eyes are drawn to something else.

"Shit Bobby … what the hell is that!"

There are welts slowly crawling up Dean's arm. We look at each other simultaneously … he knows … I know … and yet I can't believe it. How is this possible? … but there's no other explanation.

"The Lich!'

Bobby looks at us strangely … and suddenly, for some weird reason, I feel like humming Kumbaya ... must be the stress. He wants an explanation, so I tell him how we fought the Lich, how Hal shot at it and how Dean got wounded.

"Damn it to hell boys … do you even realize the amount of crap Dean has gotten himself into?"

Bobby gives us his background knowledge on necromancers while I dab at the scratches marring Dean's arm. He's pretty pissed that we didn't mention the Lich earlier. I can't believe that this thing is still somehow connected to Dean, but when Bobby reveals that it can transfer its damage to its victims … until they die … everything falls into place. I feel the blood drain from my face.

"There must be something we can do …"

My heart sinks as he shakes his head, he can't be giving up already, can he? There's a loud buzzing in my ears, but I still get the just of what he's saying, and I really don't want to hear it ...

"… if this thing gets shot, scratches itself or decides to walk in front of a bus … Dean's gonna …"

Bobby's voice shakes as he tenderly rubs Dean's brow, I think I'm hyperventilating …

"The only way we can save Dean … is to kill him."

_**TBC …**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone ;0) - Thanks again for the great reviews ... they really keep me going ... but you can still 'feed me Seymour' ;0)**

Sorry I've taken so long to post, brain doesn't seem to want to work with me (again) ;0) - Next chapter should be posted on Monday all things withstanding ...

**Here's Chapter 4 _(enjoy)_**

**Warning: Still mild language ... I can't seem to stop ;0)**

* * *

I can't believe my own ears. I explode … 

"WHAT? NO! What the hell are you talking about Bobby? There's no way we're killing Dean!"

How can Bobby even be thinking that, and to top it all, in front of Dean! I'm shaking with rage. Bobby tries to explain his reasons but I'm not listening. There's nothing he can say to change my mind. I'm so friggin angry right now I feel like punching my hand through the wall, instead I snap at him …

"How Bobby, explain to me how exactly are we suppose to save Dean by killing him?"

Dean's weary voice breaks my tirade.

"Sammy … just give him a chance …"

He's looking at me despondently, goddamit! I really want to vent right now but I swallow my anger, for Dean's sake.

Bobby starts by explaining how we need to stop Dean's heart in order to kill the Lich and then revive him. Sounds like a dumbass plan to me. This is just not gonna happen, no how, no way. I don't care if Bobby thinks it's a solution, I'm not gonna risk Dean's life, not after the draining surgery he's just been through, there are too many risks involved that I'm just not willing to take. Dean nearly died today … he nearly died … it leaves a heavy feeling in my chest. I can't lose him, not when I'm still trying to find a way to save him.

"Bobby, that is the dumbest idea I've ever heard! Hopefully revive Dean? Man, I can't believe I'm listening to this shit. He's gonna be dead as in D E A D and you're risking it all on hopefully reviving him? Besides which Dean's too weak, his body can't take any more punishment, the odds of bringing back from something like this are ... are …"

"… astronomical?" I look at Dean … exactly!

"Yeah, friggin astronomical!"

"Do you have a better idea Sam? Cause if you do, I'd love to hear it!"

I don't have a clue but I'm ready to tear into Bobby with a barrage of reasons why his plan stinks, when Dean coughs weakly. I immediately look at him. He looks awful, but he bravely squeezes my arm and my resolve crumbles.

"hey guys? … sick person over here!"

I'm angry again, but not at Bobby, at myself ... jesus, Dean … he's so selfless and here I am fighting …

"Shit, sorry Dean …"

… what the hell's wrong with me? I look down guiltily, his face seems a bit flushed … I quickly check his pulse, it seems a bit fast.

I'm starting to calm down a bit and with it comes embarrassment. I apologize to Bobby for my outburst. It seems that's all I've been doing today … apologizing.

'Okay Bobby, so what exactly do we have to do to kill this bitch?"

"Well that's the clincher Sam, I'm not quiet sure myself, but before you go off on another tangent (he smiles at me teasingly), I've never been up against a Lich before, they're wiley bastards, that's how they've manage to live for so long without being caught. I think our best bet is to blast it with silver bullets doused in holey water and hope for best."

I respect Bobby and I usually trust his judgment, but I'm starting to think that I need to get a second opinion.

"dagnabitholyfudgesunofapreacherman!"

I look over at Dean puzzled … he looks like he wants to throw up.

He's frowning at us, "What? … it … hurts!"

I suddenly spot the small puncture marks in Dean's shoulder. Shit, shit, shit! I'm gonna toast that freaking Necromancer if it's the last thing I do … I have the basin in my hand before he can say …

"Sammy!"

He dry heaves again, god that's gotta hurt with the state his chest is in. I hold onto him until he falls back exhausted.

"Ow, pain!"

His throat sounds dry and scratchy as I try to comfort him. I manage to feed him a few ice-chips while I contemplate all my deadliest moves … beating it to death with a stick is at the top of my list right now.

"This thing is seriously hankering for some whipass!"

I realize that Bobby's been talking for a while, I force myself to concentrate on what he's saying. He feels that we should be making a decision, but how am I supposed to decide the best course of action when I don't know what to do myself. I just need some more time. I'm not ready to make a choice.

"Sammy … I think … Bobby's right."

"What?"

He can't mean what he's saying … he's not in his right mind. I try to talk him out of it, but he doesn't see any other choice and even though I hate myself for it, I have to agree. But there's one thing for damn sure …

"I'm not gonna let you die Dean!"

"I know … I'm counting on it."

That's good … as long as we're all on the same page. I'll make a deal with the devil himself if I have to, but nobody's dying today if I can help it!

Bobby starts by giving us a list of scenarios and we finally agree that putting Dean into a hypothermic state is the safest. Apparently it's the best way to prevent brain damage … hell, I don't even want to go down that road. I'm barely keeping it together as it is.

"We're gonna have to use every ice-pack in this place, and then some."

Hal is already thinking ahead and rushes off to get more at the nearby gas station. I watch as Dean yawns tiredly, blinking profusely, then closing his eyes. I wait for them to open again, they don't.

"Hey there big brother, wake up."

Nothing. I shake him gently.

"Dean … Dean, come on, wake up man!"

Bobby lifts his eyelids, shining a small torch into each iris to gauge his response.

"He's unconscious Sam, but that's a good thing, it's gonna make our task a little bit easier if he isn't awake."

"Yeah, you're probably right …" the words leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

Hal walks in a few minutes later with a load of ice packs which he wraps in blankets and towels to place over Dean. Bobby fetches what's left in the freezer while I keep a silent vigil next to Dean. I just can't find the will to help them. Shit this definitely sucks big time! I wish dad were here. Dad and I used to fight like cat and dog, but his presence in situations like these always had a calming effect on me. Somehow, I don't know why, I felt that nothing could go wrong as long as dad was in control of the situation. Maybe it was because he was so certain, he radiated strength and you just couldn't help but believe he could fix anything. I think that's why Dean used to do everything he was told. Dad was his armor, his faith and his core …but Dean's never realized is that it was actually him and not dad. Dean has always been the heart and strength of this family.

He's nearly totally encased in ice-packs when he starts to stir. I'm really hoping he doesn't wake up right now, but his panicked voice has me removing some of the icepacks before I can stop myself.

"SAMMY!"

Oh god he's freaking out.

"SAMMY!"

He starts thrashing around trying to get free. I immediately throw myself over his chest, I don't want him hurting himself. Bobby holds his frantic arms and I watch in shock as Hal tries to grab onto Dean's legs. Dean's sudden strength is born of fear and he kicks poor Hal almost completely across the room.

"DEAN! DEAN! Listen to me … just calm down! … you're okay … stop kicking … just calm down! … that's it … I'm here …"

My voice penetrates his confused mind and he forces his eyes open.

"Sam … my?"

"Yeah Dean, it's me … just relax, everything's okay."

I know I'm lying, he knows he's been lied to … but we continue with the pretence.

I quickly explain to him what's been happening while he's been out. I touch his arm and almost recoil from the iciness of his skin. He's so damn cold, shit … I don't think I can do this …

"Dean … I don't know what I'm gonna do … if you …"

He cuts me off before I can finish, "Dying's easy Sammy … living's hard … and you know me … I don't ever … take the easy route."

I chuckle … his words are funny because they're so true to Dean.

"Well, just make sure that you stay away from that friggin' light!"

Otherwise so help me I'm gonna follow you …

We really can't afford any mistakes so Hal tests all the medical equipment, making sure everything's ready for when we need to revive Dean while Bobby does a check of the weapons again. I try to clear my mind while I load my Desert Eagle semi automatic pistol. It's like a hand canon and it's precisely what I need to blast this Necromancer back to the days when the 'Dead Sea' was only a little sick.

Dean tries to make light of the situation again but hitting us with one of his stupid jokes. I force a laugh … I'm really not in a cheery mood.

I get up, lightly squeezing his neck, god I love him …

"Ass."

… looking down at him like this almost feels like goodbye. I have to turn away, it's bad enough having to listen to his heartbeat slowing down on the monitor but I just can't bear to watch the life go out of his eyes. Bobby reassuring squeezes my shoulder as I take my place.

My full attention goes to the almost impossible task that lies ahead of me … of us. There's only one thing left for me to do …

_Hi Lord_

_It's me, Sam. I know you're busy and everything, but I'd just like to ask you to look out for us in our hour of need. Give us the strength and agility to fight this thing and waste it ... and please, please help me save Dean today. I know he doesn't pray or go to church much but he's a good guy, we both know it. I think that's about it Lord … thanks. Oh, and I'm still trying to convert him, so please just give me a little more time._

_Amen_

Bobby does a last check on Dean before he also takes his place. My nerves start thrumming in anticipation of the battle ahead.

And for an instant, I think I hear Dean's voice saying 'I love you' … but it's probably just my imagination ...

I take aim and block out the sound of the alarm's flat tone announcing the death of my big brother.

_**TBC …**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys ;0) - ****Thanks a gig for the fantabulously cool reviews ... Hope you arent getting bored with this story, and if you are, don't worry ... there's only one more chapter to suffer through ;0)**

**P.S: I'm looking for a beta (my lot are caught up in the daily flow of activity commonly known as work) ... so if anyone's interest, please drop me a line or give me a shout ;0)**

**Here's Chapter 5 - enjoy ;0)**

**Warning: Mild Language ... sense of humor failure ... total angst ;0)**

* * *

The windows instantly start rattling, shaking in their hinges, and I can feel the intense supernatural pull as they suddenly shatter open and the Lich sweeps into the room with imposing force. For an instant it looks like an angel, a bright halo of its intense power shimmering around its beautiful disguise, hiding the creature beneath. 

We all fire simultaneously but I watch in astonishment as everything starts decelerating. The bullets are straining forward to rendezvous with their target. My body also feels sluggish, I can't seem to move ... and my panicked yell of warning to Bobby comes out in slow monotones. Then everything freezes in space. I can only move my eyes as I look over at Bobby and Hal. They're also trapped in time, stuck in a firing pose, the bullets frozen centimeters from the Lich who is hovering silently, an amused grin on her face.

She drifts leisurely towards Dean. Oh god no … NO! … My silent screams go unheard and I can only watch stricken as she floats directly over his body. I need to get loose, I need to move, oh please god help me … DEAN! Horror envelopes me as her claw reaches out to touch Dean's heart. I'm gonna watch her take Dean's soul and there's nothing I can do. My insides are rattling with rage and suddenly I can move my head. I turn it with effort to look at her and wheeze, "Stop …"

Her confused expression moves away from Dean to me. She looks curious as she slowly drifts my way to hover directly in front of me. My arms are still stuck outstretched, gun in hand, imitating a statue. Her raspy voice sends chills down my spine.

"_I don't understand …"_

Shit lady, join the club. She looks over at Dean confused.

"_I've come for his essence, but it's gone …"_

What the hell is she talking about?

"_This has never happened before … I'm swifter than the human soul … it usually stays with it's body for a few minutes before it moves on … but his soul is already gone …"_

Oh god … please no … she's lying, she must be lying!

"_Hundreds of years … hundreds of things you can never comprehend … but still … I've never seen this … how is his essence gone … and how are you fighting my power? … who are you?"_

I'm fighting her power? Shit, I'm fighting her power, that means I can get free and kill this bitch … holey crap, what must I do? … I need to buy more time … keep her talking ...

"Sam … Winchester … that's … my brother … Dean …"

"_Sam Winchester?"_

My name sounds vile on her lips … great, now I'm gonna have to change it … once I get us out of this mess.

"_Ah yes … the famous Winchester's, long line of warriors and weapon makers … but more recently demon bait … should have guessed."_

She smiles at me through black teeth.

"_I also sold my soul to a demon a long time ago … I'm immortal you know … and I'll stay that way as long as I continue to feed off hapless souls. They're screaming right now … it's a beautiful sound, you should hear it … do you want to hear what hell sounds like Sam Winchester?"_

Shit, she's seriously giving me the creeps.

"No thanks … but … I wouldn't mind … sending you … back there …"

She chuckles and her rotting breath nearly knocks me out.

"_You know that you should both be dead … I can sense it on you … your brother has cheated the reaper more times than is decent … and you … well you've __**actually**__ experienced death, haven't you? … do you remember that Sam? Do you remember dying? where you went?"_

"No!"

I don't remember, I just know that it was the worst day of my life, the day my brother gave up his life for mine. My insides are quacking with fury and with it comes movement … I can feel my arms, they're stiff, but I'm getting feeling back … it's the anger … just need to really lose my cool and I should be able to break free …

"_That's a shame, really it is … don't worry though, it will come back, I'll help you remember?"_

Her hand flicks out and before I can move she places it over my heart. The pain wipes out all thoughts and I can't hold back the unrelenting scream of agony as her fingers seem to melt into my chest.

Her hand instantly flinches back like she just got burned, looking at me in shock. I'm panting like I just ran the minute mile, I take a few gulps of air. If I weren't frozen to the spot right now I'd probably fall over. I feel drained but I manage to stay conscious, looking at her through pained eyes. That's definitely gonna leave a mark.

"_No … It's not possible … it cant be true … "_

She looks scared, she's actually scared … of me?

"What? What is it? What did you see?"

She seems to be talking to herself as she looks at me in denial ... slowly inching away.

"_No … it can't happen … it' doesn't make sense …"_

"Speak to me dammit … what do you know?"

"_Can't explain this … this phenomenon … you, your brother … No! I'm not going to be here to find out … besides, it won't happen … yes … it won't happen … your brother is gone forever Sam Winchester, there's no bringing him back …"_

Her words send me over the edge …

"NOOOOOO!!"

With rage and strength I never thought possible, the thick air around me begins pulsating and I break the invisible force that's been holding us. The stunned Lich tries to make a dash for the window but the exit is sealed with salt. Bobby rigged the salt to fall and complete the circle as soon as she came in through the window. She's stuck in here with us and she screams in frustration as she tries to fight her way out.

Everything rushes back to real time as Bobby and Hal shoot at her, completely unaware of what's just happened. Bullets are flying, hitting bottles, embedding themselves in the wall. I instinctively move closer to Dean, sheltering his body from flying shrapnel and bullets. She is screeching hysterically diving at us desperately, knocking one of the cupboards over and just missing Hal by inches as he rolls out of the way. I'm firing randomly, hoping to hit her as she dashes around the small confines of the room. Shit we just can't seem to find our mark. Bobby grabs the shotgun and gets lucky, winging her in the side as she flies into the spray of buckshot. She's transforms into her naturally hideous form, her eyes blazing with dark flames, but I remain calm, aim and shoot.

She stops in mid flight, my bullet hitting her right in the spot where her heart used to be, a stunned expression on her face. Bobby and Hal don't waste time as one after another bullets rain into her body as she screams and curses at us in five ancient languages. We're definitely gonna have to shower in holey water after this. We don't stop until she falls down unceremoniously to the floor. She doesn't move again … but I shoot her once more … for luck.

I drop my gun and turn to look at Dean ... _'there's no bringing him back'_ … I sprint over, pulling the icepacks off him frantically … '_your brother is gone forever Sam Winchester' … _NO! I refuse to believe that, he's not gone, I'll bring him back ... but the words taunt me when I look down at him. His translucent face looks tranquil and at peace … he could just be sleeping … except for the blue tinge on his slightly parted lips. Oh god … he's dead ... he's dead. I'm shaking again as Bobby comes up behind me.

"Sam! You with me kiddo … you okay to do this?"

Pull yourself together dammit, you're doing this, you've gotta do this … Dean's coming back, there's no other choice, so snap out of it. I take a few deep breaths and nod my head.

"That's good Sam … lets get started okay?"

"Yeah!"

I look at his still features, "Listen to me Dean … you're not dead you hear me … I don't know where you are right now, probably chasing some pretty chick angels somewhere knowing you, but I want you back here with me. All you need to do is fight Dean, I know you can do that, so fight for me … okay!"

Hal has thrown a sheet over the dead Lich while Bobby covers Dean in warm blankets and intersperses microwave heated packs along his legs and groin. I tuck a small heated towel under Dean's neck, which also opens up his airway.

"Sam, just remember … it's gonna take some time to bring his body temperature up and revive him … if you need to stop or take a break, just say so and Hal or I will take over … okay?"

I nod my head again.

"You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be …"

Bobby positions himself near Dean's exposed chest, while Hal monitors the equipment carefully. I cover my mouth over Dean's cold lips and force three quick breaths into his still lungs. Bobby gives 30 quick, firm compressions to every 2 breaths I force into his lungs. I lose myself in the continuous motion, my breath becoming Dean's breath … inhale, exhale … watching his chest rise and fall. I'm his source of life … and that's all I concentrate on.

Hal updates us with stats from the monitor every few minutes … Dean's temperature seems to be rising, but very slowly. Other life signs are still non existent. My heart aches silently at his words. We keep on.

"Breathe Dean … please breathe!" I know his listening, not sure how, but I can feel it.

"Still no pulse, give him 1mg IV push of epi and let's try and shock him."

"Shit Bobby, how long's he been down?"

"10 minutes, he's gonna be okay, he's gonna be okay."

I calmly continue breathing for Dean while Bobby chargers the defibrillator. Dad used to say that the first rules under these circumstances were 'don't panic' and 'remain dispassionate' … but how do you learn to do that? I never could, it was one of the reasons I left for college. Hal taps me on the shoulder and we both step back.

"Clear!"

Dean's body arches up off the table.

"Again … Clear!"

"Shit, still nothing! Hal bring more warm blankets and heat packs over here. We have to get his temperature up. It's still at 84° and we need to get it above 86°"

I immediately return to my task, lifting Dean's chin, pinching his nose and breathing for him, while Bobby continues with compressions.

"Please Dean, don't do this to me, come back!"

More breaths, more compressions.

"… come on Dean! …"

I'm loosing him, can feel him slipping away, but I'm not going to give up, I'll continue like this until he has the strength to fight back …

I carry on puffing warm breath into Dean's lungs, he still isn't responding. His lips are soft but icy cold and I try to block out all the hopeless images bombarding my mind. I can't begin to imagine my life without Dean, he's always been there and I've felt safe in the knowledge that he's around, even when we were separated. I knew he was always just a phone call away.

I'm pleading with him now, but I don't care …

"Come on Dean, I need you …life is just way more interesting when you're in it ... so please don't give up."

I force more air between his ashen lips.

"… breathe Dean …"

Hal adds more warm blankets, while Bobby stoically continues with the compressions, they don't see my tears splashing on Dean's still face.

"… please come back …"

"His temp is up to 87° … come on Dean, don't make us do all the work!"

I jump slightly when Hal shouts, "He's in V-fib!"

"That's it kiddo … okay let's give him another 1mg of epi …"

Hal quickly administers some warm saline while the defibrillator charges, I will my energy into the next breath of air I force into his lungs.

"Please Dean … you have to be okay … please …"

"Alright boys … Clear!"

Bobby shocks Dean again, his back arching as the current courses through his body.

"Still in V-fib … charge to 360 … Clear!"

My heart sinks as the next shock accompanies the sound of a flat-line.

"DAMMIT … we've lost him again … let's resume CPR!"

I immediately cover his mouth with my own but a sudden feeling of apprehension has me stopping to look down into his motionless face. I don't know what it is but Dean seems to be slipping further away. I know his fighting … but it's almost as if he's loosing the battle. That knowledge spurs me on.

I look over at Bobby … his eyes are weary, but he continues with the compressions. There is blood on his hands and I realize that Dean's stitches have torn as I see the slick liquid ooze out from under the dressing.

"I think his got a few cracked ribs Sam … he's gonna be sore when he wakes up."

"I don't care, we can deal with that, just as long as he wakes up."

I have no idea of how much time has gone by, and every minute seems to push Dean further away from me. With the heartache comes anger. I'm loosing him and he promised to fight … he promised …

"Breathe, dammit to hell … Breathe Dean! … don't you friggin leave me!"

"Sam … Sam … it's over son, we have to let him go…,"

I look at Bobby in disbelief, I can barely see him through my tears, please … not him as well.

"NO! NO! … He's not dead, we have to keep trying, please Bobby … please … I'm begging you!"

"Sam, it's been 40 minutes, he's still unresponsive."

The whole world seems to be giving up, but I won't let him go. This can't be happening … we can't stop …

"Please Bobby, we have to try … I can't let him die … he's my big brother!"

Bobby knows that his next words will severely test my sanity …

"Okay, lets give him another 1mg of epi …"

Thank god. You just need to hold on Dean. We continue with CPR, I breathe all of my will into his body, his lungs expand and suddenly, ever so slightly I feel movement, I stop breathing …

"… Dean?"

The monitor shows that he's back in V-fib. Bobby charges the defibrillator, placing the paddles on Dean's chest and sending another shock to his heart. His back arches again and we all pause … hoping … praying … I give him another quick breath …

"… come on Dean!"

I listen shocked for a few seconds to the regular rhythm sounding from the machine, I almost want to pinch myself to make sure I'm awake, but when he inhale tentatively, the world suddenly becomes a better place. Bobby has a look of total disbelief and astonishment on his face, he grins at me idiotically, I can't help but return it. I knew he'd make it … there was never a doubt in my mind.

"He's back … he's actually back … son of a gun! … blood pressure's stabilizing … we've got a normal rhythm … he's breathing on his own … Holy Crap!"

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I listen in amusement to Bobby and Hals whoops of joy and celebration. I lean forward …

"Thank god … thank god Dean! Just stay with me, ya hear! … I'm gonna take care of you, you're gonna be okay … I promise!"

I start sobbing uncontrollably with release, my face buried on my arm as I lean tiredly onto the mattress. His steady heartbeat becomes the sweetest music to my ears. My pent up fears are pouring out of me, so my heart nearly stops when I feel Dean's hand suddenly grab onto my arm. I look up, my heart thumbing in my chest … I can feel the energy in his touch … but his weak whisper has me laughing and crying and shaking with euphoria.

"What… took … you … so … long?"

Tears are streaming down my face again, god I don't think I've ever cried so much, I'm so kicking Dean's ass when his better for turning me into my namesake "Samantha". Take that you bitch … I have my brother, I have him back. I can't stop myself … I lean forward and kiss his cold forehead tenderly.

Bobby blows his nose noisily as he grins at me through watery eyes.

"Okay boys, lets not get ahead of ourselves, there's still a lot of work to be done."

I start by gently cleaning around the bleeding, torn stitches on Dean's chest. It's definitely going to leave a scar, just another one to add to the array already marring his body. Bobby and Hal drag the Lich's body out back to salt and burn.

They come back a few minutes later in jovial spirits, laughing and slapping each other on the back. They're both covered in soot, but Hal seems to be eyebrow-less. I chuckle as he relays their story while Bobby takes a quick shower.

After heavy persuasion I eventually leave Dean in Bobby and Hal's capable care as I go to take a quick shower myself. I'm really pleased to find that there's still hot water and I let it sting down onto my tense, sore muscles as I lean against the wall. I look at the red burn mark shaped like a claw over my heart and the Lich's words replay in my head … what the hell was she talking about … whatever it was didn't sound good … god, I wonder if it's too late to change professions. Maybe we should just give up this gig and go work at Burger King, but Dean would probably eat up all the profits. I snort in amusement. I cover the burn mark with cream as I get dressed, but I still feel totally refreshed when I return to Dean while Bobby finishes up with re-stitching his wound.

"Hey Bobby, where's Hal?"

"He's gone back to his office, just wanted to make sure that the trail is cold, before we have SWAT teams at our doorstep."

Must remember to thank him for all he's done. He's really has gone out of his way to help us, don't think we could have managed without him, and I firmly believe we've made a new friend.

"I'm finished up over here, think we need to try and get some shut-eye while we can."

I'm exhausted but I'm also buzzing with adrenalin and pure joy. Don't think I'll be able to sleep for at least the next few days.

"You go ahead Bobby, don't think I can sleep just yet, I'll keep an eye on Dean, I'll wake you if there's any change."

"You sure Sam, you look like you could use some sleep."

I shake my head, "Nope, I'm fine, really."

Bobby shrugs his shoulders, he knows it's useless trying to convince me, I grin. He doesn't even try to argue as he shuffles off to his room.

Dean's body is warming up enough for him to start shivering. He's smothered in warm blankets and heat packs but he's still cold. Maybe I should try and warm him with my body heat. I carefully maneuver myself onto the small table, careful not to disturb the wires and tubing connected to his body. I manage to balance on my left side and to prevent myself from falling off I carefully place my right leg across Dean's. My right arm rests lightly on his waist as I snuggle in closer, totally comforted just to be near him. I rest my head on my outstretched arm as I watch his even breathing. I can't believe his back, I thought for sure I'd lost him, but here he is, in my embrace and I almost feel like never letting him go. I smile as I imagine the look of disgust on Dean's face if he could see us now. I yawn tiredly. Just need to close my eyes for a few minutes … won't fall asleep …

_**TBC …**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys ;0) - Thanks again for the fantastic reviews (****grins happily****). This is it, the final chapter of Transference Revisited - hope it lived up to your expectations and that I did Sammy justice ;0) - ****and you can still review, it makes me happy, I'm really easy to please ;0)**

**A huge, humongous, gigantic THANKS to SometimesAlways for beta-ing this chapter for me ;0) - Her keen eye only made it better in my opinion ;0)**

**Here's ****Chapter 6 - enjoy ;0)**

**Warning: Mild Language**

There's a nagging feeling at the back of my mind, like I've forgotten something. Shit! My eyes fly open and look directly into Dean's sleepy gaze as he smiles at me.

"Hey? Hey! You're awake!"

I quickly hop off the table. Damnit, I fell asleep … I can't believe I actually fell asleep! Don't think I've ever slept this tight, didn't even dream. Lord, I hope Dean didn't notice … he is so gonna rag me for this … still feel a bit groggy but I immediately holler for Bobby while I start fluffing Dean's pillow … anything to take his mind off it.

"How ya feeling?"

He looks a bit dazed. "Chest hurts … hot!"

Crap! I quickly feel his forehead … oh double crap!

"Shit … you're burning up Dean!"

"Sammy … were we … just … spooning?"

Triple crap, he noticed!

I chuckle nervously, "Maybe in your dreams dude … you're far too frigid for my liking!"

I quickly check the reading from the thermometer, his temps up to 101° … this is so not good. Bobby finally arrives, he looks more disheveled then me.

"Hey kiddo, how ya doin? … shit you look like crap!"

Yup … that's what I've been saying … I totally agree with his assessment as he checks the wound. Dean is pale and sweaty, his breath hitching sporadically and Bobby's next words confirm my worst fears.

"Damnit … looks like he's gone and gotten himself an infection."

Bobby presses lightly on the red inflamed skin around the stitches, careful not to disturb Dean's taped ribs. The wound discharge oozes out slowly, god this is really bad. Dean grunts in pain, his face wrinkling and his words breaking my heart …

"… owie, owie, owie …"

How did I sleep through this? The unanswered question keeps feeding my guilt. I want to kick myself. Dean is sick … I had no right to fall asleep … I was supposed to keep watch. If anything happens to him it's gonna be my fault … goddamnit! What kind of a brother does that make me?

I start wiping down Dean's fevered body, he looks so tired. Is it possible that it was just yesterday morning he was teasing me about using the word 'superfluous' in a sentence? His snarky response of … 'It sounds like English, but I can't understand a word you're saying' … had us both chuckling through the rest of breakfast … jesus … it already feels like days ago.

Bobby's talking calmly to Dean about removing the stitches and cleaning out the wound … deep down I know that I couldn't have possibly stopped the infection, but maybe I could've seen it sooner and that's why I blame myself. It was my job to look after him, he always does for me … but I failed in my task. I've realized for a long time that I'm gonna be the downfall of the only person left in this world that I truly love. I don't know when or how … today, tomorrow … it's gonna be me … and that knowledge is crushing my soul.

I silently, guiltily continue wringing out the cloth and dipping it in the lukewarm water. I let the wet cloth travel slowly over Dean's chest, arms, neck and face and then repeat the process. Dean's skin seems to twitch in pain but he still manages to slip into restless sleep.

Bobby gives Dean the last dose of antibiotics which makes me anxious, the spares we had were destroyed in the gun fight. He also administers some painkillers while he looks at me uneasily. He knows something's up.

"What is it Sam? What's goin on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing … I'm just … worried."

He shakes his head.

"Don't give me that bullshit … I know you, and it sure looks like your carrying a whole lot of blame around on those shoulders of yours. If you're blaming yourself, I swear I'm gonna take you out back right now … and kick your ass two ways to next Sunday!"

His words are harsh, but his smile is gentle.

I smile back tentatively, "You'll have to catch me first!"

He snorts in amusement, "I'm faster than I look kiddo, and don't you forget it!"

We chuckle in warm camaraderie for a moment.

"Okay, so spit it out … what's eating you?

I sigh, realizing he's not gonna give up.

"Okay Yeah, I blame myself Bobby … I do. I'm supposed to be looking out for him. He's been shot, operated on, placed under induced hypothermia … he died," my voice cracks … "he died and we nearly lost him and now he's got an infection … I should have been watching him, but I fell asleep … god, I fell asleep!"

Tears well up in my eyes out of anger.

"Sam … you boys are really gonna be the death of me." He huffs impatiently.

"What exactly makes this your fault? Please explain it cause I'm a bit confused … way I see it, you've been fighting non stop for your brother since all this happened. It's been your strength and faith in him that's the reason his alive right now. We gave up on him Sam. Me and Hal. If you want to blame someone, blame us. You've been awake for hours, caring for Dean … patching him up better than some doctors I've met, and hell yeah, you got tired … so what? We're all tired, and we're all doing the best we can under the circumstances. It's nobody's fault, and there's no blame to be laid at anyone's doorstep. So stop beating yourself up. Dean wouldn't want that, and you know it!"

Shit, I hate it when Bobby's right. He grabs me by the shoulders and grins at my look of self pity.

"You've done great Sam … Dean's gonna be fine, we're gonna make sure of that … okay?"

"Okay." I snort in amusement as he grabs me in a big bear hug; I feel kinda awkward cause I'm at least a two feet taller than Bobby. He's such a softy … but I'd never say that to his face.

Hal knocks on the door and we both jump, Bobby straightening and vigorously slapping me on the back in a manly way.

"Sorry guys, guess you didn't hear me come in," Hal is just teeth as he grins at us.

"We were just discussing some guy stuff," Bobby clears his throat gruffly and gives a warning look as Hal tries to bite back a chuckle.

"Well, everything's sorted out at the office … told them that I was following a lead and that the perpetrator seems to have vanished. We didn't have a description or evidence, so there isn't much to go on. Told them the boys were undercover cops who find criminals working under the radar. They all seemed pretty impressed with that. I filed a report and you shouldn't have any more problems, the case is unsolved but closed for now. I also told my deputy that I'm taking a few days … he was pretty surprised cause I never take leave, but he'll keep everything under control."

I look at him in shock, "I'm speechless Hal … I can't even begin to tell you how much we appreciate this. All we needed was another case against us … we're already on America's Most Wanted."

I'm still dumbfounded by how much he's risked for us and that he's still come back to help. Hal just smiles, "No problem … just glad I could do something to fix this mess I got you into … how's he doing?"

He looks over at Dean worriedly.

"He's got an infection … we need to drain it out."

"Damn, poor kid, he's really been through the mill … we better wash up … the sooner we do this, the sooner he'll get better."

Bobby starts steering him towards the door, "Hal, buddy, I think you need to catch some shut eye first … you look dead on your feet man. You can use the spare room, cause to be honest, I don't think you could thread a bread stick through a doughnut right now."

Hal snorts but Bobby's 'don't argue' look has him nodding tiredly in agreement. After scrubbing my arms and hands with soap and disinfectant I start by carefully removing the stitches on Dean's chest. Bobby looks over at me silently as he scrubs his own hands.

I pull the blood clotted threads out as carefully as I can, the infection is bad and seeps more profusely as the stitches come loose. I look at the horrendous wound fighting back a gag reflex. I can handle blood, gore or anything grizzly you throw my way, I deal with it daily … but when it involves my brother, it makes me sick to my stomach.

"I'll do the rest Sam, you just try and keep him cool."

I move away, thankful to Bobby for taking over. I watch mutely for the next half hour as he pulls opens the wound and cleans off the fluids, carefully cutting away the dead tissue causing the infection. He finally finishes by sewing the wound up neatly … it doesn't look half bad anymore and I begin to relax a little.

Hal comes in just as I replace a cool cloth on Dean's forehead. He looks rested and after a quick chat agrees to fetch more antibiotics and some pizza's (even though I'm not hungry) … meet up with Bobby again at the farm house and tow the Impala back. I'm secretly pleased cause I know Dean's gonna be ecstatic. They leave as I smile down at Dean's sleeping face but he looks very still … too still. My heart skips a beat. I lean over him nervously, putting my ear near his mouth to feel his breath.

Please! Please!

"Yes … I'm breathing Sam …"

God Dean, way to give me a heart attack!

"Just checking … how the pain levels?"

"About … 5."

Yeah right, that means about 12 on Dean's 'bullshit-scale'. I immediately give him another dose of painkillers.

"Where's … Bobby?"

"He went to meet Hal at the farmhouse. He's gonna tow the Impala … they should be back any minute!"

I grin at the look of relief on his face … knew he'd be happy. His hand unconsciously moves to the source of his pain and I stop him before he touches the dressing.

"Leave it alone Dean!"

My words come out a bit harsh and he looks at me worriedly. Shit, didn't mean to scare him.

"How bad … Sam."

I sigh miserably, I don't have a choice so I sit down and explain what's been going on while he's been unconscious. He listens attentively, wincing slightly as he tries to swallow, his throat is probably dry. I feed him a few ice-chips which he takes gratefully and then continue with the story of how we fought the Lich and disposed of its body … leaving out the part about my personal encounter … I don't want him to worry. I make light of the whole thing, which gains me a few appreciative grins. He starts chuckling, but it quickly turns into a painful chest rattling cough … I curse myself for being so stupid!

"Shit Dean …I'm sorry man … just take it easy … breathe … are you okay? Please don't do this to me again … just breathe!"

I carefully lift him up and hold his shaking body against my chest, rubbing circles on his back as he tries to catch his breath. He slumps forward in my arms and I quickly grab his chin, gently tapping his face.

"Hey, hey … you with me?"

I don't get a response so I quickly check his pulse. I feel it thrumming in his neck. Thank god. I listen carefully … it's shallow and labored but at least he's still breathing. I lay him down again and duck under to find the lever to lift the upper half of the table. Dean's torso is now slightly elevated and he seems to breathe easier. I almost faint with relief when Bobby and Hal walk in.

"Sam, what's going on?"

I cut straight to the chase.

"He's having trouble breathing … did you get the antibiotics?"

They look at me nervously … it's not a good sign.

"I tried at a pharmacy Sam, but they wouldn't give me the broad spectrum antibiotic we need without a prescription. We're gonna have to make a different plan."

"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" I rub my hands through my hair in frustration.

"What do we need to do?" Hal looks ready to try just about anything.

"Well his body can't fight this infection on its own, we'll need to get something like 'Levofloxacin' and the only place that's gonna have stock is a hospital."

I know and Bobby knows that the only way we can get it is if we steal it, don't know how Hal is gonna take to that idea.

"Sammy?"

It's Dean … he's awake. I rush to his side, "Hey there … you okay?"

"… am I dying?"

He's just put a voice to my deepest fears and the shock of his statement makes me fume …

"NO DEAN! SHIT NO! … don't … don't you even say that … you're not gonna die …and you're definitely not dying … you hear me!"

I'm shaking as Bobby puts a calming hand on my shoulder, he understands my fears but Dean looks at me in fevered bewilderment, just nodding his head.

"SHIT Bobby, we have to get him to a hospital."

"We can't move him Sam, he's too weak, he won't survive the trip!"

"Well then what the hell are we going to do, he's ill … he's delirious … he needs antibiotics … and he needs them right now!"

It's Hals suggestion that has us looking at each other in shock.

"We'll just have to break-in to a hospital pharmacy and get some supplies … Bobby and I can do it, shouldn't be too hard, I can act as a distraction … besides we don't have any other choice!"

Thankfully he doesn't need convincing. Bobby explains the well-practiced art of 'borrowing' supplies to Hal as they leave on their mission. I pace around nervously and then realize Dean's eye's are on me, so I force myself to sit down. I'm agitated and he's picking up on it … I try to relax, just need to keep calm. Shit, I hope Bobby and Hal make it back quickly, Dean is completely flushed but he's looking at me with complete faith … he's put his trust and his life in my hands. I'm not gonna let him down.

I cover my palm gently over his heart, needing to feel the connection between us.

"I'm sorry Dean … didn't mean to go all postal on you like that … it's just ... I can't lose you again."

He just smiles at me tiredly … probably wandering if he shouldn't just introduce me as his younger 'sister' from now on … I smile back at the thought.

"It's okay … just rest … I know you're tired. Close your eyes … I'll keep watch."

His tense body relaxes a little and he drifts in and out of sleep while I sponge him down, counting the seconds for Bobby's return. Half an hour later the sharp hoot from Bobby's truck has me startled out of my trance.

He hoots again so I get up, checking that Dean is still asleep, he's eyes are darting behind closed lids, probably dreaming. I don't want to leave him, but one last check and another hoot from Bobby has me dashing out to see what the fuss is about. It's starting to rain, big drops splashing onto the dusty earth as I rush out to the truck. Bobby and Hal look like they've just come back from a major heist. They didn't only bring antibiotics, but there's a whole cartload of replacements for the stock that got wasted in the shoot out.

"Sorry Sam, needed some help with the supplies before this storm hits, looks like it's gonna be a down pour."

We quickly gather up the packets and boxes and rush back inside just as the clouds open up. I don't know how they managed it but I'm just thankful they did.

"How's he doing?"

"He's still got a fever and it's kinda under control. He's sleeping right now, but he seems a bit restless …"

Dean's panicked cry of "SAMMY" has me running to the surgery, quickly throwing open the door, but the sight that greats me freezes me to the spot.

Dean is standing in front of us, his hand outstretched, swaying on his feet, grinning at me with total relief written across his face. Shit! He probably woke up disorientated and I wasn't here. I watch as blood drips to the floor from his finger tips and I instantly rush forward to grab him as the color drains from his face and he falls limply to the floor.

"Dean? Shit!"

Bobby helps me get him back onto the table as Hal starts unpacking the boxes, looking for the antibiotics. He finds the bottles and reads the label.

"We need to give him 500 mg of Levoflaxicin once daily for 7 to 14 days."

The stuff must be potent ... fantastic! Hal administers it to the new IV line Bobby's just inserted into Dean's arm. I check and patch up the bleeding puncture marks, adrenalin making my hands shake. Bobby inspects the stitches, they seem fine, and re-tapes Dean's ribs … just in case.

The room suddenly feels a bit stuffy. I try to concentrate my nervous energy into my task as I check Dean's pulse. I can't feel it through the pounding of my own heart. My ears are ringing … shit, what's wrong with me?

Need to pull it together … can't have a nervous breakdown now. I try to take another steadying breath but it doesn't help. The room starts spinning and my vision fades out. Shit!

"Bobby …" My legs buckle … I try to keep myself up by holding onto the table but I still slip to the floor and find myself lying flat, looking up at the ceiling, what the hell? Bobby and Hal's panicked faces hover over me just before the world fades to black.

…………………………

"When last did he have anything to eat?" It's Bobby's voice.

"Don't know, doesn't look like he touched the food we brought back …" It's Hal's voice.

"Shit! He's probably running on empty, should have made sure he ate something before we left, he's been too worried about Dean to care for himself … no wonder he took a nose dive!"

Ah crap … this is definitely gonna lead to a lecture. I open my eyes slowly, head is pounding relentlessly and I can't stifle a groan.

"Hey Sam … you with us kiddo?"

"Yeah …"

"Shit boy, you nearly gave us a heart attack! How you feeling?"

I'm lying on the spare bed, an IV connected to my arm, and I feel like I want to throw up.

All I can manage is, "Sick!"

"I recon so … do you need a bucket?"

"Not sure … help me up." I try to push myself into a sitting position but Bobby's firm hand presses down on my sore chest. I look down worriedly but they haven't removed my shirt, thank god. Don't want to have to explain the whole Lich story to them.

"Take it easy Sam … you're not moving until we say you can. I've got a plate of food here that I want you to eat, and you're not getting back to Dean until you do."

Shit Dean! I struggle up again but Bobby's firm hold pins me down.

"Let me go Bobby, I need to get to Dean … where is he, why aren't you with him?"

"Take it easy he's fine … the antibiotics are working, his fevers broken and he's finally resting, which is what you should be doing!"

I can't believe what I'm hearing?

"His fevers broken? How long have I been out?"

"You passed out from exhaustion and low blood sugar Sam, you've been out of it for about an hour."

An hour?

"Why didn't you wake me?"

Bobby shakes his head in frustration.

"You were drained Sam, so don't you go getting on your high-horse with me! You needed sleep, so we let you sleep. What good will you be to Dean or us if you make yourself sick?"

"I wasn't … I just wanted …" I don't know what to say.

"It's okay … just stop fighting us alright, eat something, get back your strength and then you can go and sit with Dean. He's out of the woods. He just needs lots of rest while his body recovers. He's gonna make it Sam, so stop worrying. He'll be back to his 'skirt chasing'' ways before you know it. May as well enjoy the peace while ya can."

I can't help but grin. The invisible weight suddenly lifts from my shoulders. Bobby checks on Dean while I sit and chat with Hal, eating the plate of food they've stuck under my nose. I guess I was pretty hungry and Hal grins as he fetches me another plate of fried chicken and roast vegetables. Half an hour later I feel good as new.

I spend the next two days with Dean while he recovers. Bobby brings in a cot for me, he knows I'll sleep easier if I can keep an eye on my brother.

Dean's healing nicely and manages to stay awake for longer periods of time but he's already becoming stir crazy. He hates being sick and he really hates being nursed. Bobby promises to move him to the couch if he stops complaining, feels better and can sit up by himself. We're still in the surgery.

I'm reading a book when he finally wakes up looking at me with clarity for the first time.

"Hey you … how ya feeling?"

"Delicate …"

I snort at his comment.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days with fever, but almost four since the shooting."

"Shit …" he looks at me in disbelief.

"Yup, afraid so …"

I don't want to tell him that it's probably gonna be another week or two of bed rest, he'll probably make a dash for the door.

"This really sucks out loud Sammy!" He huffs in irritation … "I'm already bored!"

His brow furrows, "… and please tell me you taped Oprah …"

I can't help but laugh … he's only been awake for two minutes … this definitely spells trouble.

He grins at me mischievously, "I know, let's play 'I spy' …"

I'm wondering if it will be totally out of the question to drug him again … heavily!

…………………………

I feel refreshed from my long, hot shower as I spoon another ladle of Bobby's homemade soup into a bowl for Dean. He's actually hungry and I'd make him a roast turkey if that's what he felt like. He hasn't eaten anything solid in four days but I'm keeping it as light as I can according to Dean's standards.

He'd eat a tub of lard but today he's getting a large slice of corn bread instead … don't know what it is about corn bread that Dean loves so much, but I butter it anyway … just the way he likes it. It's a thankless job looking after my pain-in-the-ass sick brother, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.

Bobby and Hal are out, they've become good friends and Bobby's kinda showing him the ropes about hunting. I balance the soup, bread, orange juice and utensils on a tray while I carry my large bowl of microwave popcorn under my arm, walking precariously to the lounge. I'm not sure if he's still sleeping and I don't want to wake him if he is, so I peep cautiously around the corner.

"You're still a way better kisser than Sammy …yes you are … yes you are!"

Dean is looking lovingly at Rumsfeld, patting him affectionately on his head.

The statement is just so ridiculous, I burst out laughing. He's still harping on about the mouth-to-mouth I gave him and the fact that he remembers that, of all things, is hysterical. Laughing, I try not to drop the tray …

"Sammy, don't you dare mess with my grub, get over here! I'm on the verge of starvation!"

Damn my tummy muscles ache, "Sorry Dean, you just really crack me up sometimes!"

He's definitely back to his old wise-cracking self and I try unsuccessfully to wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes … god, it's good to have him back.

He grins back at me as he lies sprawled on the couch among the blankets and pillows. He's already making comments about planning an escape but he's not getting past me that easily and finally relents without putting up much of a fight. That's a sure sign that he's still not feeling 100. He tries lifting himself up and I'm dying to help, but he's being typically stubborn, so I can only watch nervously as he slowly gets himself into a sitting position.

When he's finally settled I place the tray of food on his lap and scoot in next to him with my bowl of popcorn … I grin, knowing it's driving him crazy … he loves popcorn and he's already eyeing it appreciatively. I watch silently as his shaky hand brings the spoon of soup to his mouth … he manages to sip it with gusto without messing a drop, so I leave him to it.

"Oh man … this … is so … good!"

I stuff my mouth with another handful of popcorn as Bobby and Hal walk in.

They joke and banter with Dean, just as pleased as me that he finally has his appetite back. Bobby and Hal join us to watch the game and Dean immediately starts with an even/odds bets … I don't join in … I need my money more than Dean needs it. He takes another sour faced sip of his orange juice and I chortle as he looks longingly at my beer, god … he's just like a kid sometimes.

"I promise Dean, as soon as you're better I'll take you out for the biggest steak you can eat and a couple of beers, okay?"

He gives me a toothy grin, "Shucks … thanks Sammy!"

I shake my head and roll my eyes at my easy to please brother and continue watching the game with loads of loud shouting and some curses from Bobby and Hal. I take another sip of beer and grin … they may as well say goodbye to their hard earned cash now ... you never bet against Dean and win. I almost choke on my next sip, staring in disbelief as he tries to get up.

"What the hell are you doing Dean!"

"Gotta pee … do you mind?"

"Let me help you …" stubborn jerk! I'm sooo gonna carry him to the toilet seat! I carefully help him to his mulish feet. He hisses in pain but still pushes away my helping hand with a childish 'I can do it!' I swear, if he has a relapse, or tears a stitch, or collapses, or faints, or even stubs his toe … I'm seriously gonna kick his ass.

"If you're not back in 5 minutes … I'm coming in!"

He knows I mean it but all I can do is watch his back as he slowly shuffles to the bathroom, giving me a cheeky thumbs up on his arrival.

"Jackass!"

I sit down again … but my ears are on full alert. If there's even a slight telltale sign of a thump or bump I'm going to break down that door, drag his ass back here and hog-tie him to the couch for the remainder of his bed rest.

4 minutes and 24 seconds later he starts shuffling back. I ignore his protest so he gives up and lets me lower him carefully onto the couch.

His ribs are probably killing him. I push 2 Tylenol tablets into his palm, handing him his orange juice. He looks at me miserably but drinks them without complaint.

We get back to watching the final quarter of the game … and Dean collects his winnings. Bobby vowing yet again that he'll never gamble with Dean for as long as he lives while Hal mutters something about dumb luck. Dean and I look at each other and smirk.

I run my hands through my hair … shit it's standing in all directions. I get up, stretching my sore muscles while making my way to the bathroom. I feel happy and relaxed for the first time in days, Dean's on the road to recovery, the Lich is Dead and we've made a new friend and ally … what could possibly go wrong?

_**Fin ;0)**_


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